


Because the Night

by pommedeplume



Series: Fleur and Tonks: Sights and Sounds in the PNW [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: A Kinky Love Story, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Autagonistophilia, Background Poly, Bisexual Fleur, Bisexual Tonks, Breast Worship, Cunnilingus, Demisexual Tonks, Demisexuality, Explicit Consent, F/F, Fluff and Smut, Large Breasts, Masturbation, Musicians, Mutual Masturbation, Open Relationships, Pacific Northwest, Romance, Seattle, Stage Kink, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-03-21 12:22:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13740780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pommedeplume/pseuds/pommedeplume
Summary: Front-woman of the band Orca Patrol, Tonks, has a very special kink she's afraid to share with anyone. Along comes a stunningly gorgeous admirer and new biggest fan, Fleur Delacour, to help her fully explore her kink.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to NachoDiablo for betaing.
> 
> Prompt was:  
> Kink: Autagonistophilia (arousal from performing on stage or on camera)  
> One to three pairings: Dorcas/Marlene or Fleur/Tonks  
> Optional supplementary prompt: Breast worship  
> Submitted by: shaggydogstail

 

 

The sign above the door says The Yeti Room. Viktor has been telling Fleur how great the place is for the entire drive down but she isn’t convinced. It looks like a dive.  
  
“Are you sure about this place? There is almost no one parked here,” Fleur says as she steps out of Viktor’s car.  
  
“Why would I lie?” Viktor replies, one of his ridiculous smirks upon his thin face.  
  
“I am not accusing you lying. I am accusing you of having terrible taste.”  
  
“Listen, this place is very nice! I know it does not look like much but I met my last ex-boyfriend here,” Viktor insists.  
  
Fleur rolls her eyes and places a finger against her cheek, pretending to think.  
  
“Your last ex-boyfriend… hmm. How long did the two of you date? I cannot remember,” Fleur smirks.  
  
Viktor chuckles and closes his car door.  
  
“Two weeks, which if you will recall, is twice as long as the girl I dated before him.”  
  
Viktor locks the car and Fleur begins to walk towards the front door. She feels a little cold in her sweater but knows she’ll be hot before too long.  
  
“Is it dating if you never leave the bedroom?” Fleur jokes.  
  
“Give me some credit, Fleur. I always make them breakfast. Besides, not everyone wants to be married at your age.”  
  
Fleur scowls as they enter the club.  
  
“I did not plan to get married at twenty-one. But I know what I want and what I like. I am picky.”  
  
“Do not worry, my friend. This is one of my favorite things about you,” Viktor assures her.  
  
Something smells like marijuana as they get seated, though Fleur greatly prefers that to cigarette smoke. They order a couple of drinks. Viktor is going to have a whiskey. He would probably be nursing it all night long. Fleur is having a glass of Chardonnay.  
  
Their server had mentioned the name of tonight’s performers but Fleur wasn’t listening, preferring instead to scroll through Twitter on her phone.  
  
“Fleur… tell me what you think of that man over there,” Viktor says, gesturing with his index finger towards a table against the wall behind them.  
  
Fleur glances back, seeing a dark-haired man with a beard, his hands around a beer glass, looking anxious.  
  
“He is straight and he is with someone,” Fleur tells Viktor.  
  
Viktor scoffs.  
  
“How do you know that?”  
  
Fleur doesn’t look up from her phone as she explains, “He is clearly waiting for someone. I am not sure he is straight, but I do like to watch you fret.”  
  
She smirks despite herself.  
  
“Shit,” Viktor whispers and Fleur looks over her shoulder, seeing a very pretty woman coming to sit next to the man, looking cozy.  
  
“I am sorry, Viktor. Maybe the next one will work out,” she insists.  
  
“You do not know. Perhaps he is bisexual. Maybe they are polyamorous like you and Bill. I will go over and introduce myself. Maybe then I will take them _both_ home with me,” Viktor grins.  
  
“Bill and I would never do that. We do not mix our dating. He dates whoever he wants and I date whoever I want. I wish you luck, though I am afraid she is far too pretty for you.”  
  
“Maybe you are just jealous of me. You make fun of me because my relationships end so fast, but yours never even get started,” Viktor counters, making Fleur narrow her eyes in his direction.  
  
“I am never jealous. I am picky, you know this.”  
  
“But what is the point of being polyamorous if you are not going to enjoy yourself!”  
  
“This is your problem, Viktor. Everything is about the next big thrill. Maybe you should stop and learn when to savor things.”  
  
Their server brings them their drinks and the band on stage begins to play. It is growling, typical Pacific Northwest folkrock, the sort of thing Fleur detests. She is no music snob, but she knows what she likes and it isn’t this.  
  
Midway through the band’s set Viktor goes over to chat up that couple. Fleur texts with her sister, Gabrielle, complaining about the music and lack of anyone or anything interesting in the club. She doesn’t notice when the first band leaves, instead only looking up to see the next band setting up.  
  
Viktor returns with a grin, looking like the cat who had got the cream.  
  
“Guess who has two thumbs and got the numbers of two polyamorous bisexuals just now,” Viktor beams, pointing his thumbs at himself with pride.  
  
“Good job, Viktor,” Fleur replies with a smirk and Viktor looks disappointed.  
  
“That is it? Good job?”  
  
“No, really. Well done. You were right, I was wrong. I am not perfect,” Fleur says, shrugging.  
  
“Sure, you are. A little _too_ perfect,” Viktor comments.  
  
“You are such a smooth talker. I can see how you got their numbers.”  
  
The lights on the stage turn a dark blue as the band takes their seats. A spotlight shines over the microphone, the singer not yet on stage. Quietly, a tall figure strides upon the stage, her fashionable black boots lightly thumping with each step. Standing in the spotlight, Fleur can see her in full.  
  
She is a tall woman with spiky purple hair and a heart shaped face. Black stockings that cover up past her knees are held up by garters, leaving most of her thighs exposed. Her short black and blue dress is spectacularly low-cut, revealing a very ample bosom. She wears a long, open jacket that makes her look a bit like a superhero and a bit like stage magician.  
  
Her face is turned down, not looking at the crowd as her hand grips the base of the microphone, still attached to the stand. Fleur is transfixed as she sees the singer wet her dark-red lips, moving her mouth towards the mic. The electric guitar lightly strums as the keyboards softly emit ethereal sounds.  
  
She begins to sing. Her voice is low and raspy for the moment. Viktor is saying something but Fleur can’t focus on him right now. All her attention is on the stage. With a loud thud of the drums and a growl of the guitar the singer erupts, pulling the microphone from its stand and roaming the stage, animated like a cabaret performer but singing like PJ Harvey or Patti Smith.  
  
Fleur’s phone chimes but she doesn’t respond. She’s almost afraid to look away and miss a moment of this performance. The music is definitely her style but the energy is nothing like she has seen before. The singer’s sexuality radiates from the stage, though nothing she does is overtly sexual. Fleur finally realizes that she’s too hot for the sweater, thinking she must have had more of the wine than she thought.  
  
“Fleur? Are you listening?” Viktor says, sounding perturbed.  
  
“Yeah,” Fleur replies, her eyes staying focused on the stage.  
  
The singer has removed her jacket, the first song having ended. Her dark eyes roam the crowd. For a moment her eyes meet Fleur’s, holding for a half second before looking away.  
  
“No, you are not. Look at you. You have seen something you like,” Viktor observes.  
  
“Hmm?” Fleur asks, hearing him but unable to respond at this moment.  
  
The style of the next song is entirely different, featuring a rhythmic, almost tribal drum beat and punk rock piano playing by the keyboardist as the singer snarls into the microphone back on the stand, her eyes closed as her every word evokes emotion. Fleur tries to follow the lyrics but the performance seems to mask them, forcing her to focus on the emotions behind the words instead.  
  
The second song bleeds into the third, a more somber number with violin the only accompanying instrument which is followed by two minutes of rambling, spoken word poetry. Her words are spoken fast and precise, but do not feel rehearsed.  
  
There is short period of silence after the poetry is finished. The drummer counts them down then the band begins to play. It’s a classic rock number. Fleur recognizes the song but isn’t familiar with the original artist and doesn’t know its name but resolves to look it up once she was back at home. Bill probably knows it.  
  
The song ends as the packed club packs and the singer speaks into the mic, “Thank you. We’re Orca Patrol from Olympia. Follow us on Bandcamp. Good night.”  
  
“She was amazing,” Fleur says but glances next to her and sees that Viktor isn’t there, instead looking over and finding him chatting with his couple.  
  
Fleur shrugs and looks up Orca Patrol on her phone.  
  


* * *

  
  
“Good show. Yeah. _Great_. You were all great. I’m just gonna clean up in my dressing room then we can leave,” Tonks says, desperate to get away from her band.  
  
Her heart pounds and every part of her feels awake. Her pulse is felt strongest between her thighs, just like always. She doesn’t remember when it first began to happen and still doesn’t understand _why_ it happens but she has never been able to resist it.  
  
She enters her dressing room, closing and locking the door quickly. She throws her jacket aside, pulls her dress over her head, sliding her fingers into her underwear into the damp heat below. She’s completely soaked. Performing on stage is always a sexual experience for her but this was more intense than usual. She hadn’t wanted this set to end. Midway through their cover of ‘Kick it Out’ by Heart she was certain she might come, though not intentionally. Nothing about it was ever intentional. It is just how she is wired.  
  
Tonks watches herself in the mirror of her dressing room, slumped forward, one hand gripping a breast through her bra, the other furiously stroking her clit, in awe of her own wetness. She remembers the performance, every moment, every song. It’s so much easier to come if she relives it.  
  
The crowd was good tonight. This isn’t her favorite venue by any stretch of the imagination but there are worse places to play. And there was a really pretty blonde haired woman who seemed really into the show. She wasn’t Orca Patrol’s usual sort of fan. She seemed a little bit like a hipster and a little bit like a supermodel. She was way out of Tonks’s league but it didn’t hurt to fantasize. On the contrary, it was nice.  
  
Tonks bites her lips as she comes the first time, immediately knowing once won’t be enough as she slides two fingers inside herself, breathing hard as she fucks herself. Dave recorded the performance. It would be on YouTube but not soon enough to watch it once she was back at home in her bed.  
  
She thinks of the blonde haired woman in the grey sweater again. She looked so cozy. She would look good in Tonks’s bed. Who the fuck is she kidding? A woman like that would look good in _anyone’s_ bed. She would look good anywhere.  
  
“She’s out of your league,” Tonks grumbles at herself as she comes again with a whimper, hoping no one was outside the dressing room door at that exact moment.  
  
She looks at herself in the mirror, bent over and breathing hard. She smiles at herself, feeling satisfied but not truly satiated. Someone will be banging on the door any moment now. She pulls her fingers out of her underwear then sucks them. She pulls her dress back on then pops out of the dressing room and into the bathroom, cleaning up and peeing before grabbing her things and meeting the band out back.  
  
She can barely focus on the drive back down to Olympia. She doesn’t even notice the smell of Tacoma as they pass through. They drop her off at her apartment where her dog is very excited to see her.  
  
“Settle down, Horace,” she says to the old sheepdog.  
  
She feeds him and makes some tea. Honeyflower always soothes her after a show. She knows she won’t be able to sleep well, even after her tea and a warm bath. She climbs into bed, pulls out her laptop and puts on a recent show from YouTube. It was down in Eugene, Oregon. The crowd had sucked but her performance was electric. She pulls out one of her vibrators, making herself come several times over as she rewatches the entire performance, remembering how turned on she had been that night, just like she would later remember this night too.  
  
Around two in the morning she finally starts to feel tired. Their next show isn’t for two weeks. That feels so long from now. But it’s in West Seattle. Not a bad venue at all. She promises herself to make the most of it.  
  


* * *

  
  
“Geez, hon. Hot date?” Bill asks as Fleur examines herself in the mirror, wearing her favorite black dress.  
  
“No. I am going to see Orca Patrol tonight.”  
  
Her husband comes by, placing hands on her shoulders and kissing the back of her head.  
  
“Ah, well, I’m going on a date with Amber. I probably won’t be coming home tonight,” he says.  
  
Fleur turns around to face him, smiling.  
  
“Enjoy yourself,” she says, leaning up to kiss him.  
  
“Will do. Amber wants to meet you, by the way,” Bill reveals.  
  
“I am sure she does. Tell her we’ll get lunch sometime,” Fleur says, though she won’t look forward to it.  
  
Fleur is rarely jealous of Bill’s other partners but she also knows she has a tendency to project her own high standards onto him, which only makes her feel guilty. She wants Bill to be free to handle his relationships his own way, free of her judgment… within certain limits, of course. But Bill has a good head on his shoulders and she hasn’t had reason for concern yet.  
  
“Are you driving?” Bill asks.  
  
“No. I am taking the bus,” Fleur replies.  
  
“Take an umbrella. Just in case,” he says and she nods, naturally having already planned on bringing one.  
  
She wouldn’t bother with an umbrella for most things, in truth. Most of the time the rain in Seattle can just be ignored, but tonight she is excited. Her hair and makeup are perfect. Tonight she is seeing _her_ again, though in truth they have never really met.  
  
In the two weeks since she first saw Orca Patrol play the Yeti Room, she has downloaded both their albums and has watched many of their live performances on YouTube. She has learned the singer’s name is Tonks. Just Tonks. She has practiced saying it when she is alone.  
  
Fleur hasn’t had a crush like this since she was twelve. Oh, she’d fallen for Bill hard and fast. But that had been different. There had never been time for any infatuation. She’d asked him out on her second day working for the credit union. And then everything had happened quickly. A year later they were married.  
  
Fleur isn’t even certain what she wants to happen. No… that isn’t true. She wants to meet this woman. She wants to tell her how much she loves her music. She wants to tell Tonks the way her performance makes her feel.  
  
On the bus she texts Viktor. He has already been on three dates with the couple from the Yeti Room with plans for a fourth. This is a new record for him. He wishes her luck for tonight though she tells him she’s keeping her expectations low.  
  
The club is called Burning Embers. It’s a lot more full and noisy than the Yeti Room. It’s not Fleur’s sort of place but she resolves to try to get comfortable before Orca Patrol goes on. She sits down at the bar and orders a Mai Tai, feeling playful tonight. She constantly checks her phone, thinking that somehow checking the time will make it move faster. With twenty-five minutes left until Orca Patrol are scheduled to take the stage, a voice next to her says, “Hey, I saw you down in Auburn, right?”  
  
Fleur turns to see who is speaking. It’s her. Tonks. Her dark eyes are looking Fleur up and down. Fleur knows that look. She knows her own worth. Tonks thinks she’s hot. That is OK. She knows how to play it cool.  
  
“Yes. The Yeti Room,” Fleur replies.  
  
“Shall I be so bold as to hope you are a fan?” Tonks grins.  
  
Fleur nods and returns her smile, taking a moment to check Tonks out. Her outfit is similar to last time, though the tights and the dress are different. Her tits look great and there is no way Tonks doesn’t see Fleur glance at her cleavage.  
  
“I was there with a friend and saw you perform by chance. I thought you were incredible,” Fleur says, flashing Tonks her eyes.  
  
Tonks’s face is flushed. She can clearly sense that Fleur finds her attractive. It’s something in her eyes.  
  
“Oh… well… thank you,” Tonks says.  
  
“When I saw you were playing nearby… I just had to come see you,” Fleur says.  
  
“Oh, you live in West Seattle? I’m in Olympia,” Tonks says sadly.  
  
“Yes. I live here with my husband,” Fleur reveals and the disappointment is clear on Tonks’s face.  
  
“Ah. I’m single. No girlfriend, boyfriend or enbyfriend for me,” Tonks replies.  
  
“My husband has a girlfriend. I am not seeing anyone else, but I would like to,” Fleur says, seeing Tonks’s face light up a little.  
  
“Oh. You’re poly? That’s cool. I mean, obviously, I’m not dating anyone right now but I’m poly too,” Tonks smiles.  
  
Fleur smirks, takes a sip of her Mai Tai then says, “I know we do not really know each other but I would love to take you out some time, if you are interested. I am Fleur.”  
  
Tonks shakes Fleur’s hand. It’s warm and her palm is sweaty.  
  
“I would love that… actually… there’s a cafe around the corner that is more quiet than here. I don’t come up to Seattle often. We could go around there after my performance, if you’d like.”  
  
“Do they serve tea? I do not drink coffee,” Fleur says firmly.  
  
“Yeah, they have tea. They have a chai that’s really good, actually,” Tonks reveals.  
  
“Then I look forward to it. I suppose I should let you go get ready,” Fleur says.  
  
“Yeah. Of course.”  
  


* * *

  
  
Tonks is buzzing a little stronger than usual when she takes the stage this night. Not only is the venue alive and not only does she have a date but the last band ran late, forcing her to anxiously wait in her dressing room, the tension only building.  
  
Orca Patrol start their set with a new song, ‘Pull My Ripcord’ and Tonks is instantly carried away. She can always feel the heat between her legs, though she tries not to dwell on it. She can’t help the way performing on stage makes her feel, not that she would stop it if she could. She sometimes wishes that she had someone she could tell. She can’t exactly tell her band that she soaks her panties every time they play. It isn’t any of their business.  
  
Was there some sort of support group you could go to? Not to try to cure herself. There is nothing wrong with her. But it would be good to find someone who understood. It would be even better to find someone who could share in this desire. She has told a few partners in the past about this fetish and they weren’t approving. They thought it was inappropriate to feel that way, but what is the harm if the audience never knows?  
  
She was embarrassed when she was younger. It made performing on stage difficult. When she was nineteen she had performed in a folk rock duo with her friend, Hestia Jones. It was no different back then. It isn’t about rock music. It isn’t even about music, though the music doesn’t hurt. She steps on a stage, the focus is on her and her body awakens. The crowd is never made up of individuals. It is a single, unified watcher.  
  
Until tonight. Tonight Tonks can’t stop glancing at her date. She’s the most beautiful woman that Tonks has ever laid eyes on. Tall, blonde, perfect and not at all like the sort of women Tonks normally dated. Tonks can’t help but let her eyes linger on Fleur longer than the rest of the crowd. Fleur’s deep blue eyes watch Tonks’s every move. She’s smiling and claps after every song.  
  
Tonks finds that this beautiful woman watching her greatly contributes to her arousal. It’s so bad that for the first time in a while she forgets some lyrics to one of their older songs. It’s OK though. She covers for it and improvises new lyrics. The band will probably never even know the difference.  
  
When the set ends they do an encore. It’s a good venue. The crowd here is into what they do. As she leaves the stage, the heat between her legs all encompassing, she prays the cafe around the corner is still open. She didn’t even get Fleur’s number. What if she never finds her again?  
  
Tonks flies into her dressing room, checking her phone for the time the cafe closes. There isn’t much time. A half hour until close, if she runs now. She swears at the realization that she can either stay in the dressing room and fuck herself or go have a date with the most beautiful woman she’s ever met.  
  
She knows she’s a mess when she enters the cafe but it’s fine because _she’s_ there, sitting at a table and smiling.  
  
“Sorry, I only just realized how little time there was,” Tonks apologizes.  
  
Fleur has a chai latte. It smells fantastic and Tonks wishes she had got one but doesn’t want to leave the table now that she’s sat down.  
  
“It is fine. Do not worry. I’m glad you came,” Fleur says and Tonks resists the urge to lament that she has not in fact came.  
  
“So uh… are from here originally?” Tonks asks stupidly.  
  
Fleur laughs.  
  
“No. I thought the accent would be a giveaway? I am from France originally, though I have lived in Seattle for many years.”  
  
“Well, I suspected but… I guess I don’t like making presumptions about people,” Tonks replies, unable to tell if she’s flushed from embarrassment or sexual arousal.  
  
“It is OK. People ask me stupid questions. They think because I am French I am an expert on all things French,” Fleur complains.  
  
“Oh, that sucks. I did go to Paris with my mother when I was sixteen. It was lovely. I’d like to go back sometime,” Tonks says.  
  
“My parents and my sister both live here but we return to France together for the holidays.”  
  
“That’s cool.”  
  
Fleur smiles at Tonks and says, “I wanted to tell you that your performance was beautiful. You are so good. I hope you know that.”  
  
Tonks blushes and says, “Thank you.”  
  
“I have been listening to your albums every night before bed,” Fleur reveals.  
  
“Does that help you sleep?” Tonks asks.  
  
Fleur laughs and shakes her head.  
  
“No, it does not but it makes me happy anyway.”  
  
Tonks resists the urge to tell Fleur that she watches videos of herself performing almost every night so that she can get off on watching herself. That is certainly what she is looking forward to doing tonight. She tries to stop herself from imagining what toys she would use, which ones best said _I had a date with a hot girl tonight and need to fuck myself extra hard_. She faintly was aware that if she were the type of person who was into hookups, she definitely knew some people who would be interested. But she was demisexual and hookups had never had much appeal.  
  
“So, you still have to go back down to Olympia tonight?” Fleur asks.  
  
“Yeah. My poor dog is probably losing his mind,” Tonks replies.  
  
Fleur’s face lit up.  
  
“Oh, you have a doggy! I love dogs. I want one but I have not yet convinced my husband.”  
  
“Oh, right. You said you were married. Do you mind me asking how you became poly?”  
  
“No, I do not mind. Bill was already poly. He told me on one of our first dates. I think he thought I would be upset but it did not seem a big deal to me. He’s with his girlfriend tonight. Not coming home,” Fleur winks.  
  
Tonks chuckles and says, “Yeah, I guess… dating has always been different for me. I never have really serious relationships. I think dating openly is more ideal for my lifestyle. I date a lot of people who are already in relationships.”  
  
“Are you seeing anyone now?” Fleur inquires.  
  
“I don’t know,” Tonks admits.  
  
Fleurs laughs.  
  
“What do you mean you do not know? How can you not know if you are seeing anyone?”  
  
“When it’s not serious, sometimes you don’t see each other for a while. Sometimes it starts back up. Sometimes it doesn’t. This is the first date I’ve had in recently. Erm… I mean if that’s what this is,” Tonks says.  
  
“This is definitely a date. Though, I think soon they shall be kicking us out,” Fleur says, looking over at the cashier.  
  
“Yeah, I’m sorry the set ran late. Ugh, this sucks. I want to get to know you better. You should come down to Olympia. You’ll be my honored guest. We have a local show next weekend,” Tonks says.  
  
“My husband will be out of town for work next weekend. I was looking for something to keep myself occupied, actually.”  
  
Tonks grins, her excitement positively brimming. They exchange contact information and Tonks rushes back to her band, who thankfully have been very patient with her tonight. She’s still giddy by the time she’s home. She feeds Horace, showers, then gets into bed, thinking she is going to really work off this current level of horniness. She pulls out some toys, turns on an old performance and sets about her task, thoughts of Fleur accompanying her usual fantasies.  
  


 


	2. Chapter 2

“Why am I not moving? I have a date!” Fleur shouts, glancing at the clock while Orca Patrol plays over her car stereo.  
  
There is still over an hour until Orca Patrol take the stage, but being stuck in traffic in Tacoma wasn’t Fleur’s ideal state of being. Actually, spending any time in Tacoma at all ranked pretty low on Fleur’s list of things to do on any given day.  
  
She has been very excited about this trip down to Olympia all week long. She and Tonks have texted every day. What was at first going to be a simple long night out has turned into an overnight stay. Fleur hadn’t been looking forward to driving back nearly two hours after Orca Patrol’s performance. Tonks had gently offered the use of her sofa and Fleur had accepted.  
  
It’s not a big deal but to Fleur it _feels_ like a big deal. The only time she has stayed the night on a second date she has ended up in the person’s bed, not on their sofa. She is not angling to get Tonks into bed but she has definitely thought about it. There is no denying her clear and potent sexual attraction to the singer of Orca Patrol.  
  
Fleur has never been turned down for sex in her life but Tonks told her over text that she was demisexual, almost in passing. Her research told her that demisexual people need a bond to form before sexual attraction is a thing. She will keep her distance with Tonks, make sure she’s not crossing any lines.  
  
Traffic finally clears up by the time she reaches Olympia, pulling off of I-5 to head downtown. It has been a while since Fleur has last been to the state capitol. It’s small and quaint compared to Seattle. She has to admit preferring to live in the city. Seattle suits her. Perhaps, growing up in Paris contributes to that. She isn’t sure.  
  
What she is sure of is the reasons for the excitement she feels once she has parked her car near the venue Orca Patrol is performing at. She is excited for the music. She is excited for the woman. Just being near her feels electric. Fleur’s heart pounds as she steps through the double doors into the club. Her eyes immediately catch Tonks’s eyes. Tonks is sitting at a table and looking incredible.  
  
Each time Fleur sees her it’s like she’s somehow become even more gorgeous than she remembers. And what’s more, she can see the way Tonks looks at her, her eyes checking her out, starting with her heels, then moving up over her skirt and blouse. It happens in an instant but Fleur knows that look. She gets it a lot but so rarely does it come from someone she equally desires.  
  
“You’re early,” Tonks smiles.  
  
“Well, you know how traffic can be,” Fleur explains.  
  
“Yeah. Especially on a Friday evening. Thanks for coming, though. Hopefully, it’ll be worth your while,” Tonks says, briefly touching Fleur’s hand where it is resting on the table.  
  
Fleur flushes from Tonks’s touch but Tonks pulls away, looking shy.  
  
“I guess I better get ready,” Tonks says, looking up at the stage.  
  
“Yes. Of course. I look forward to seeing you perform. You are always so good,” Fleur insists.  
  
“Thanks,” Tonks says, flashing Fleur a grin and a wink before heading off.  
  
Fleur is impatient while she waits for Orca Patrol to play. She texts with Viktor who is now several weeks into dating that couple. She thinks their relationship is cute. It’s not all about sex, though it sounds like there is plenty of that. Still she worries that Viktor is going to get hurt. He’s become invested in these two.  
  
Fleur thinks that some people make the mistake of thinking that polyamory is a one way street to uncomplicated relationships, free of the troubles of monogamy. In just a few years, she has learned a lot through her relationship with Bill. It wasn’t all easy. In some ways it was harder. But now that she is living her life this way she doesn’t think she would ever be able to go back, even if things between her and Bill ever fall apart.  
  
Orca Patrol takes the stage at seven. Their set is similar to last week but Tonks seems even more intense. Fleur doesn’t know if she’s performing with her in mind but she likes to believe she is. There’s something deeply carnal in the performance. It’s not overtly sexual but it still stirs those feelings within her. She finds herself staring at Tonks’s tits and at least once Tonks catches her, giving Fleur a sly grin in response.  
  
Orca Patrol ends the set with a performance of ‘Because the Night’ by Patti Smith. Fleur recognizes the song as soon as the opening piano starts. Tonks gives her a wink and begins to sing:  
  


_Take me now, baby, here as I am  
  
Hold me close, try and understand  
  
Desire is hunger is the fire I breathe  
  
Love is a banquet on which we feed_

  
Fleur had mentioned earlier that week how much she loves Patti Smith and Tonks confided that she was also a fan. She can’t be sure Tonks is directing this performance at her but as the chorus arrives, it’s Fleur that Tonks’s dark eyes are focused on, her fist clenched against the softness of her breasts.  
  
  


_They can't hurt you now,  
  
Can't hurt you now, can't hurt you now  
  
Because the night belongs to lovers  
  
Because the night belongs to lust  
  
Because the night belongs to lovers  
  
Because the night belongs to us_

  
  
The song fills Fleur with heat, desire coursing through her veins. She tries not to presume too much. This is, after all, Patti Smith’s best known song. Maybe it was just the only one the band knew. Still, Fleur is disappointed when Tonks’s eyes are elsewhere for the second verse.  
  
  


_Have I doubt when I'm alone  
  
Love is a ring, the telephone  
  
Love is an angel disguised as lust  
  
Here in our bed until the morning comes_

 

As the guitar solo arrives Tonks is stomping and gyrating all over the stage until the build up to the final chorus:  
  


_With love we sleep  
  
With doubt the vicious circle  
  
Turn and burns  
  
Without you I cannot live  
  
Forgive, the yearning burning  
  
I believe it's time, too real to feel  
  
So touch me now, touch me now, touch me now_

  
  
The heat and the urgency in Tonks’s voice is palpable. Whether sincere or just acting, Fleur feels the words engulfing her and commanding her attention that she gives over with ease. Tonks’s eyes find Fleur again for the end of the song.  


  
_Because tonight there are two lovers  
  
If we believe in the night we trust_   
  
  
The song finishes. Tonks is pouring with sweat and looks no less gorgeous for it. She points and smiles at Fleur who picks up her purse and goes to meet Tonks backstage as planned.  
  


* * *

  
  
Fleur is waiting in the hall behind the stage when Tonks finally makes it there. She feels shaken inside. Somehow after so many performances she found a new, sensual place inside of her, spurred on by the way this lithe, flawless woman watched her with the deepest blue eyes Tonks has ever seen. Her performances have always been internally sexual, her feelings hidden from the crowd but tonight she had, for just a song, allowed herself to be seen and Fleur had definitely seen her.  
  
Tonks can see it in Fleur’s eyes, that sense that something has been witnessed. Tonks realizes that somehow she has to take this perfect woman home with her and try to remain calm. She could at least masturbate in the shower once she got home but she knows that would only go so far.  
  
“You were wonderful. And doing Patti Smith? An amazing touch,” Fleur says, Tonks drowning in every hint of her accent.  
  
“Thanks. God, I need a shower,” Tonks says.  
  
“You worked up quite a sweat, I saw. You looked like you were really enjoying yourself,” Fleur replies, not knowing how on the money she truly was.  
  
“Yeah. Let’s go, shall we. I can feel a shower and my pyjamas calling to me,” Tonks suggests as they exit the club, Fleur leading the way to her car.  
  
Tonks is at first startled by the sound of her own voice pouring out of Fleur’s car stereo, but the surprise gives way to pride.  
  
“It’s funny. I’m not used to the album versions of the songs anymore. I prefer the way we sound live,” Tonks explains.  
  
“Yes, I prefer the live sound too. I have watched some of your performances on YouTube. There are so many I hardly know where to start,” Fleur reveals.  
  
“Ah, I could show you my favorites… if you’d like,” Tonks says.  
  
“Ohh, yes, I would most definitely like that!” Fleur says with excitement, grinning from ear to ear.  
  
“Cool. Yeah, we could do that tonight. Over tea.”  
  
Neither of them say anything else on the drive to Tonks’s apartment. Tonks realizes how turned on she is and knows that watching her own performances with a beautiful woman sitting next to her isn’t going to make things any easier, but she feels helpless to her own attraction. She doesn’t normally fall this fast. Sexual attraction is usually slow but with Fleur there is an almost instant connection.  
  
“Hello, doggy!” Fleur says to Horace as they go inside the apartment.  
  
“That’s Horace. You can keep him company while I hop in the shower. Oh, you can change in the bedroom if you want,” Tonks says.  
  
“I think I will just get to know your doggy,” Fleur says then softly says something in French.  
  
“Great. I’ll be back,” Tonks says.  
  
Tonks hates masturbating in the shower. She likes to be comfortable when she touches herself. And with a guest waiting she doesn’t even have the time for a really good go at it. She covers her mouth as she comes but her hands slips enough for a small moan to escape, echoing in the shower.  
  
Tonks is surprised to find Fleur in silver pyjamas when exits the bathroom. Tonks is wearing her old red plaid pyjamas she’s had for years, though she’s left a couple of buttons undone at the top, giving Fleur a glimpse of her cleavage, if she wants it.  
  
Tonks sets YouTube up on the TV and lets one of her favorite performances play while she makes some tea for them both. Fleur sings along to her songs and Tonks is endlessly pleased by this.  
  
“I must admit there’s something very flattering about hearing a beautiful woman sing my songs,” Tonks says, setting the tea down on the coffee table.  
  
“A beautiful woman sang them in the first place. I am only carrying on the tradition,” Fleur winks.  
  
“You’re far too kind,” Tonks insists, feeling herself blush.  
  
Fleur laughs.  
  
“I have been called a great many things in my life but kind is not one of them,” Fleur jokes.  
  
Tonks frowns and takes a sip of her tea.  
  
“You seem like a nice person to me,” Tonks replies.  
  
Fleur shrugs.  
  
“I think because I am a woman who knows her own worth and knows what she likes, men say I am a bitch. But I do not see what is so wrong with self-confidence. We are told to value it until we actually have it. Then we are told we have too much of it,” Fleur grumbles.  
  
“I feel you on that. I mean… I’ll admit my self-confidence is never as good as I want but I know how that feels,” Tonks says.  
  
“Oh, but you see, you are so gorgeous and talented. I can turn heads when I enter a room but I could never command a stage the way you do.”  
  
Tonks chuckles.  
  
“I don’t know. I’m older than you but… what am I doing with my life? My band is never going to be famous. I work at a vintage shop here in town. You’re a financial adviser and are like super smart with math. I’m twenty-seven and I still burn my toast every morning,” Tonks counters.  
  
“This is not a contest. We are both amazing women,” Fleur says, sipping her tea and saying, “This is very nice, by the way, thank you.”  
  
“You’re very welcome,” Tonks replies, her eyes focusing back on the TV screen, watching herself on stage at a show in Spokane.  
  
Yes, that had been a good night. She didn’t like traveling through mountains for gigs but that one had been worth it. She was in her element that night. She wrote a song about how she felt that night but had still never shared it with the band. She was afraid to even hint at the things she felt.  
  
Tonks glances at Fleur. She seems entranced by what she sees on the TV. Her lips are slightly parted and her eyes are wide. She looks as if she’s watching something truly riveting, but instead it was just her band. Even still, Tonks is turned on. She tries to stay casual as Fleur yawns and stretches.  
  
“I can leave if you want to lay down,” Tonks says.  
  
“Thank you but I am fine. I enjoy the company. Would you mind if I rest my feet on your legs?” Fleur asks.  
  
“No. Go right ahead,” Tonks offers.  
  
Fleur smiles as she stretches out on the sofa, her pretty bare feet placed on Tonks’s thighs. This touch isn’t making things any easier on Tonks. Fleur’s feet don’t sit still, nor does Fleur herself. She’s clearly restless. Tonks can relate.  
  
Tonks considers options. She’s hot, wet and aching below. The most beautiful woman she has ever met has her feet sliding up and down her thighs, perhaps without even realizing it. She could retire to her bedroom and quietly try to fuck herself. She could suggest they do something different, instead of watching herself perform, playing right into her own sexual fantasies. More remotely she considered just telling Fleur about her little kink.  
  
Instead Fleur spoke up, “You know there is something about the way you perform. It is… oh, no, I should not say…”  
  
“It’s OK. You won’t offend me,” Tonks says, dying to hear the rest of that sentence.  
  
“Well… it is almost sexual, is it not? Not overtly. It is subtle,” Fleur explains.  
  
Tonks bites her bottom lip, feeling a rush of arousal in the pit of her stomach.  
  
“I… umm… Yeah, I can see that,” Tonks stammers.  
  
“They say dancing is sexual on a basic, primal level. Perhaps it is true for other types of performances?” Fleur suggests.  
  
“Yeah. I think there is something sexual there,” Tonks admits, surprising herself.  
  
Fleur makes a pleased sound then says, “I like you a lot, Tonks. I am very attracted to you.”  
  
“I’m attracted to you too,” Tonks replies, her heart slamming in her chest, excited and terrified by the possibilities of what might happen next.  
  
“Would you like to make out?” Fleur asks.  
  
“God, yes,” Tonks says and Fleur calmly sits up, scooting over to Tonks with a big grin.  
  
Tonks leans over into Fleur’s mouth. Fleur giggles as they kiss, her joy infectious, making Tonks giggle in response. Fleur is an exceptionally good kisser it turns out. Tonks wonders if there is anything about her that isn’t perfect as she feels Fleur’s delicate hands resting on her thighs.  
  
Tonks wonders if this is really happening. She wonders if she really wants it to happen. But then Fleur moves her body closer and Tonks is almost certain she wants this to happen. But there’s just enough doubt for her to pull away and say, “Is this too fast?”  
  
“I am sorry. If I am being too forward…” Fleur says, backing away.  
  
“No. I guess… I don’t normally get this far on a second date… I’m not sure what I’m saying. I want this to happen but… I’m nervous,” Tonks admits with an apologetic smile.  
  
“Is there anything I can do to make you less nervous? Or we could stop entirely?” Fleur replies.  
  
Fleur’s body language is flawless. She has backed away but not so far that the moment is dead. Tonks reaches over and places a hand on Fleur’s cheek. She’s very warm to the touch and Tonks longs for the feel of her lips again. She smiles at Fleur and snickers.  
  
“You’re not making me nervous. I think I’ve made myself nervous. I’m good at that. I get in my own head and overthink things. I don’t let myself have the things I want,” Tonks confesses.  
  
“I cannot relate. I never take what I do not deserve and I do not see myself as entitled but when something I want is offered, I never refuse,” Fleur explains.  
  
“I want to have sex with you but that might be too much intimacy for me. But I could… God, I’m embarrassed to suggest it,” Tonks says, always having found it hardest of all to talk about sex and say what she wanted.  
  
“Do you want to masturbate?” Fleur suggests.  
  
Tonks laughs, nods then clarifies, “Together. We could do it together. Here.”  
  
“It is not very comfortable here,” Fleur smirks.  
  
“Well, it’s… uh… Shit, am I really going to share this? I… guess I am,” Tonks says and takes a deep breath.  
  
“Share what?” Fleur probes.  
  
Tonks looks over at the screen and says, “I… get turned on by watching myself perform. No that’s… only half the truth. I get turned on. Performing on stage. Some people like watching porn. Some people like getting spanked. Some like getting tied up… I like being on stage,” Tonks says as Fleur gives her a curious, thoughtful look.  
  
“That is interesting. I have so many questions but… I do not wish to seem strange,” Fleur says.  
  
“I won’t think they are strange… if you don’t think I am strange,” Tonks replies.  
  
“No! I do not think you are strange! I think you are beautiful and interesting. I only want to know more,” Fleur says.  
  
“Do… you mind if I touch myself while you ask questions? I’m really worked up right now,” Tonks admits.  
  
“No, go right ahead. So… is it about being watched?” Fleur asks.  
  
Tonks slides her hand into her pyjama bottoms, parting her thighs and leaning back for appropriate access to her aching flesh.  
  
“Not exactly. It’s like… mmm… It’s… more abstract. My body responds even when there’s no crowd. I could be doing anything and it’s just… the feeling. Performing. Commanding attention. I love it so much,” Tonks reveals.  
  
She looks over at Fleur whose eyes are on the screen, a hand sliding into her shining pyjama bottoms as well.  
  
“You do perform so well. So powerful and sexy. I love it,” Fleur says.  
  
“Thank you. Mmm,” Tonks grunts, watching as Fleur touches herself.  
  
Tonks notices that Fleur keeps sucking on her bottom lip as she touches herself and she finds it unbelievably sexy. She sees Fleur’s leg shifting towards her so she shifts her own leg over as well, until they touch. Even through the fabric of their pyjamas, Tonks can feel Fleur’s body heat.  
  
“When you watch yourself like this… what do you think about?” Fleur asks.  
  
“I think about how turned on I was. And I think about doing it again. And again.”  
  
“Being on a stage does not affect me in the same way but I can see the appeal,” Fleur admits.  
  
“It’s like nothing else. I’ve never been able to explain it. Whenever I’ve tried… people just think I’m weird or inappropriate,” Tonks replies then moans, knowing she’s close.  
  
“You cannot help how you feel. It is not as if you are touching yourself on stage,” Fleur defends.  
  
“I know. I have to wait until I go back stage. Mmm. It gets me so wet, Fleur. You wouldn’t believe it,” Tonks says.  
  
“Ooo, I could imagine. I would love to find out,” Fleur says.  
  
Tonks looks over at Fleur. She’s smiling and licking her lips as her hand shakes within her pyjamas. She’s no longer watching Tonks performing on stage, but watching her perform on the couch instead.  
  
“Would you? What do you have in mind?” Tonks asks.  
  
“Maybe you would like it if someone were waiting for you in the dressing room? Someone waiting to give you relief. Someone who also gets turned on by your performance,” Fleur suggests.  
  
Tonks is very close now. She pictures herself, all a mess after a performance, finding this beautiful goddess of a woman waiting for her, undressing her and relieving her primal urge.  
  
“Tell me more. Please,” Tonks begs, just needing a little something to push her over the edge.  
  
“I must admit… I would love to suck on your beautiful tits. I will also happily confess that I am very orally skilled, if you take my meaning,” Fleur winks.  
  
“Mmm. Fuck. Oh god. Coming!” Tonks calls out then lets out a long moan, an image of Fleur’s face buried between her thighs doing the trick.  
  
“Oh. Yes!” Fleur grunts then also moans, her leg shaking against Tonks’s, inspiring Tonks to shudder in an aftershock.  
  
The performance on the TV ends, leaving nothing on the screen as they both breathe hard.  
  
“Do you want to come kiss me?” Tonks asks through her euphoria.  
  
“Very much so,” Fleur says, getting her knees on the couch and crawling next to Tonks, their mouths gently finding each other, hot and slow.  
  
Tonks pulls away and says, “So you like my tits?”  
  
“Is that all right? I do not mean to be weird. I am… not very large myself. I have always been attracted to large breasts. I cannot explain it anymore than you can explain how being on the stage makes you feel,” Fleur explains.  
  
“No, I don’t mind. You can feel me up while we make out if you want,” Tonks says as she kisses Fleur again.  
  
Fleur’s hands move to Tonks’s stomach, sliding up until they curve over Tonks’s breasts, squeezing gently. Tonks can feel Fleur’s fingers sliding over her hard nipples and she lets out a soft moan, looking forward to finding out how good with her mouth she really was.  
  
They make out on the couch for a while before Tonks regretfully decides to go to bed. She promises to find out when Orca Patrol is playing next and let Fleur know. Despite everything, she still has to masturbate again before she can sleep. She knows she could’ve gone further with Fleur tonight but she wants to wait. If everything works out, the next time they are intimate, she’ll be fulfilling one of her greatest fantasies.  
  


* * *

  
  
Fleur steps out of her car and inhales early spring air. She hasn’t seen her new girlfriend in over a month. She smiles up at the sign for The Yeti Room. Viktor is already inside, entertaining his new partners. Fleur has known Viktor for a decade and can’t recall him ever having a relationship last longer than a month before. Good for him, she thinks as she enters the club.  
  
As soon as she’s seated, Viktor rushes over, giving her a hug.  
  
“I have missed you. You look good,” Viktor says.  
  
Fleur smirks and replies, “Do I ever not look good? You seem well too.”  
  
“Thank you. Do you want to meet Veronica and Tyler?” Viktor asks, seeming anxious.  
  
“Yes. I would like that,” Fleur answers honestly, thinking it never hurt to know more polyamorous bisexuals.  
  
Viktor goes back over and brings Veronica and Tyler back over, brimming with excitement to introduce his best friend. Fleur thinks they seem nice but all she really wants to do is watch the time and count the minutes until _she_ takes the stage.  
  
Even though they haven’t seen each other in person since Olympia, they have spoken every day. They have found other ways to build that connection. They have talked about this night over and over. Fleur has played it out in her mind a thousand times. She is ready.  
  
Orca Patrol takes the stage. Tonks somehow looks even more gorgeous than Fleur remembers. And her tits are pushed up even harder than before. Tonks stands silently at the microphone, smiling down at Fleur, who blows her a kiss.  
  
If there is any worry that Orca Patrol would be rusty after a break, it is immediately relieved. They are in fine form. Tonks is spectacular, seeming more sexy, powerful and confident than ever. Fleur can’t even think about the dressing room because she is caught up in the moment. Tonks is _crushing it_ on stage. Orca Patrol burn through their set with lightning fury, ending with a performance of ‘Crimson  & Clover’.  
  


_Ah, now I don't hardly know her  
  
But I think I can love her  
  
Crimson and clover_  
  
  
_Ah, now when she comes walkin' over  
  
Now I've been waitin' to show her  
  
Crimson and clover, over and over_  


 

The song ends and Fleur takes her cue to venture back stage. She’s already expected and is let into Tonks’s dressing room. She sets things up as best she can. The dressing room isn’t very large and Tonks already has a lot of stuff in there. She ties her hair up so that it won’t be in the way for what they have planned. It seems like forever as she waits. She considers getting naked but thinks it might be more fun if she’s clothed to start.  
  
Tonks enters the dressing room. Sweat drips down her face as she smiles at Fleur.  
  
“Hey,” Fleur says then adds, “How are you doing?”  
  
“Hi. I’m… really…,” Tonks says, approaching Fleur.  
  
Fleur doesn’t care how sweaty Tonks is as they kiss. Fleur slides her hands around the inside of Tonks’s jacket, up Tonks’s skirt to cup her ass through her underwear. Tonks’s hands grip Fleur’s back, pulling her close as their lips effortlessly move together.  
  
Fleur moves her mouth away, drifting it down her face, her neck and down to her cleavage, kissing the tops of her breasts, enjoying the feel of sweat, heat and flesh. She moves her hands underneath Tonks’s breasts, squeezing through her dress and her bra.  
  
“You can undress me, if you want,” Tonks breathes low, then lets her jacket fall to the floor.  
  
The club is pumping music up, ensuring that no one will hear them unless they are standing right outside the dressing room. Fleur wonders if anyone in Orca Patrol know that Tonks has a woman in there with her as she lifts the straps of Tonks’s black dress down over her shoulders and arms, then slowly pulls the dress down, leaving Tonks standing there in her bra and panties.  
  
Fleur stands back, looking up and down at Tonks for just a moment before reaching behind her, and unlatching her bra, not a simple task given how tight it is. Tonks lets out a sigh of relief as Fleur pulls the bra away, setting it aside.  
  
Fleur grins at the magnificence of Tonks’s full chest. Her nipples are hard and simply begging to be sucked. Fleur places a palm on the side of Tonks’s right breast, bending down to wrap her lips around her nipple and softly sucks. Tonks gasps as Fleur presses her face against her breast, her hand holding it in place as she slowly sucks.  
  
“Oh, Fleur. You really are orally skilled,” Tonks says as Fleur switches to the other breast.  
  
The more she sucks, licks, and kisses Tonks’s breasts, the more aware of her own aching, wet heat she becomes. She wants to find out how wet Tonks is but finds it hard to move her attention from her breasts.  
  
Tonks giggles as Fleur kisses all around her breasts with a grin.  
  
“You really do love them,” Tonks says.  
  
“Yes. Very much. They are beautiful and so are you,” Fleur replies, leaning up into a kiss.  
  
Fleur slides her hand between Tonks’s thighs, rubbing her through her panties. She gasps at feeling how wet Tonks is, her panties completely soaked. Fleur leans over to Tonks’s ear and whispers, “Do you want me to eat your pussy?”  
  
“Please,” Tonks replies.  
  
Fleur plants a kiss on Tonks’s cheek then drifts down her body. She wastes no time sliding Tonks’s panties down, letting Tonks step out of them. Tonks leans again the counter and spread her legs open. Fleur kisses up her thigh, slowly making her way to her sex. Her inner thighs are soaked with sweat and her arousal. Fleur sucks on the flesh, basking in the taste of her. 

  
She presses her face into the wild, dark hairs of her pubic mound then slides her nose down to her slit and points her tongue out, gliding it up her slit, Tonks shuddering as Fleur flicks her swollen clit. Fleur spreads Tonks open with a hand, then kisses around the sensitive pink flesh, reveling in her heat. She lets her tongue probe her hole, then slides it back up to her clit, giving it another single flick, teasing her.  
  
“Fuck,” Tonks gasps and Fleur smiles up at her.  
  
She drags her tongue along the sides of her hood, then kisses some more around it. She slowly, gently kisses down the hood before finally giving it a slow lap with her tongue. Tonks moans as the club thumps a loud, pulsing beat and Fleur slowly laps at her clit. Fleur tries to resist synching up with the beat, wanting to focus on slowly working Tonks up.  
  
Fleur does gradually increase her speed, moving her face in closer as Tonks places a hand on the top of her head. Tonks is making the most absurd sounds that would make Fleur laugh if she lacked more self-control. Fleur is about to make this woman come and she doesn’t care what sounds she makes when it happens.  
  
“Shit, Fleur. I’m so close!” Tonks moans, breathing hard.  
  
Tonks’s thighs are starting to slowly strain close as Fleur stays the course, her tongue lapping hard and steady. Tonks gasps and lets out a long, shaky whimper.  
  
“Fuck!” Tonks cries out, her body convulsing as Fleur continues to lick through her climax.  
  
There’s a brief silence in the club as the previous song ends. Tonks is still coming. There are sounds in the hall but none are too close. The next song starts as Tonks begins to relax, still breathing hard, her bosom heaving. Fleur smiles proudly up at her.  
  
“Damn. Damn,” is all Tonks can seem to say.  
  
“I told you, did I not? Oh, but I do not think you are truly satisfied. I could make you come again,” Fleur says, planting kisses on Tonks’s pubic mound.  
  
“Will you finger me?” Tonks asks.  
  
Fleur lifts up her fingers and says with a wink, “Look, I filed my nails down just for you.”  
  
“Bless you,” Tonks says as Fleur sucks on a finger then tenderly slides it inside.  
  
“Mon Dieu, tu es tellement mouillé,” Fleur whispers, knowing Tonks doesn’t speak French but could probably catch her drift, as her finger glides in and out of her drenched pussy with ease.  
  
“You can use two fingers,” Tonks informs her.  
  
Fleur quickly adds a second finger, curving them to hit her G-spot as she laps at her clit once more. Someone knocks at the dressing room door and Tonks whispers, “Please, don’t stop.”  
  
The knock at the door repeats and Tonks calls out, “Busy!”  
  
Fleur knows exactly how that sounds and whoever it is, goes away, or at the very least doesn’t knock again. It’s a damn good thing as it’s not long before Fleur has Tonks tightening around her fingers and whimpering in climax once again.  
  
Fleur sucks Tonks’s juices off her fingers then stands up. They laugh as they kiss, Tonks lying back on the counter, her head against the mirror behind her. Tonks seems so joyful and it fills Fleur with fluttering happiness.  
  
“My band is probably wondering what the hell has happened but I can’t let you go yet. Not without returning that wonderful favor,” Tonks says, dragging a finger from Fleur’s chin, down her neckline to top of her blouse, tugging at the fabric over her cleavage.  
  
“Sounds most agreeable. I will get myself undressed,” Fleur says and stands back.  
  
Tonks watches with a grin, still leaning back against the counter, as Fleur removes her blouse, skirt, bra and panties. Fleur saunters back over and they kiss, Tonks spinning them so Fleur has her butt against the counter. Tonks wraps her arms around Fleur, squeezing their naked bodies tight. The feel of Tonks’s breasts pressed against hers is exhilarating and deeply arousing. She’s ready for this woman to fuck her.  
  
“Please fuck me. Eat my pussy. Devour me,” Fleur rasps in Tonks’s ear.  
  
“Your wish is my command,” Tonks says, and makes her way down Fleur’s body, kissing over the small slopes of her breasts and her slender torso.  
  
Fleur scoots up on the counter and spread her legs. Fleur’s mouth is quick as moves her face between her thighs. Tonks kisses Fleur’s clit, giving her a shock of pleasure. Tonks pushes her open mouth against her and begins moving her lips and her tongue against her throbbing clit. Tonks grips the sides of Fleur’s hips, pulling her close as her mouth works with passion and intensity.  
  
Fleur tries to control her moans and keep her mouth closed but it’s no use. It feels too good. She utters things in French that most would not be able to understand anyway. Between her thighs, Tonks is putting on what may be the best performance of her life, but this time Fleur is certain she is going to be the one who sings.  
  
Tonks brings her up to one big climax that puts tears in her eyes and quickly gets to work on a second one. She’s ravenous and focused and Fleur is in ecstasy. Fleur has given up on trying to be silent when she comes the second time. She knows anyone who might be near will have heard her crying out Tonks’s name. Her brain isn’t in the right state of mind for modesty.  
  
Tonks stands up again and they kiss. Fleur wraps her legs around Tonks, urging her forward, just wanting to feel her naked body. Someone knocks on the door and Tonks laughs.  
  
“I’ll be out in a minute, I promise,” Tonks assures.  
  
“Ugh. I suppose we are done here,” Fleur says, tapping Tonks on the shoulder.  
  
Tonks moves out of the way and Fleur goes over to the dresser, picking up her iPhone and stopping the record.  
  
“You got it?” Tonks asks, as she starts to get dressed.  
  
“Yes. I had to clear out a lot of space and it is good I was able to charge it. I will send you the video when I get home,” Fleur says, unplugging her phone and sticking it in her purse.  
  
“Cool. Thanks,” Tonks says.  
  
Once they are both dressed they stand in front of the dressing room door.  
  
“I really like you, Fleur Delacour,” Tonks says.  
  
“And I really like you… Tonks,” Fleur laughs.  
  
“Honestly, if it feels weird to just call me Tonks, you can call me Dora. My family does. Just please, for the love of God, don’t call me Nymphadora,” Tonks explains.  
  
“I would not dream of it,” Fleur promises.  
  
They kiss again then hold each others hands between them.  
  
“I guess I should let you get back to your husband,” Tonks says.  
  
Fleur giggles.  
  
“He will be getting back late from seeing his girlfriend too. But I should let you get back to your band. Back down to Olympia,” Fleur says.  
  
“Yeah. Probably. I don’t want to go. But I guess I have to,” Tonks says sadly.  
  
“I do not want you to go either. But it is OK. I will see you again in two weeks,” Fleur says.  
  
“You don’t have to come to all of my shows, you know,” Tonks replies.  
  
“I know,” Fleur says and they kiss again, before finally parting.  
  
Fleur heads out to her car. She sits down, buckles in and turns on Orca Patrol, putting the car into drive.


End file.
